Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

I just curled up on the couch for two hours and became a teenage girl again. 


As a young girl, I used to believe that somehow, by some irrational misfortune, I was born into the wrong era. Because I have grown up with the love of music deeply intertwined into my soul, and such a great part of this love was for the likes of the Righteous Brothers and the Beatles, surely I was supposed to be born into the 1950's and 60's? What went wrong? How on earth on did I land up being born in 1984?


Anyway, I've learned to embrace my era, the late 80's rock, the crazy 90's and now the ultra-cool 00's. But still... sometimes I still think about those golden years, at the birth of rock and roll. The greased back hair.. the puffy skirts... the dance halls alive with swing... Girls waiting to be asked to dance... Boys learning to be gentlemen... And I still wish, with a tiny part of me, that I'd been born thirty years earlier. 


Tonight I watched "Dirty Dancing" again. Admittedly, it's an 80's movie, but so well-set in the 60's era - it really made me smile. Now I'd never watched Dirty Dancing until I was around 23 years old, so you must know, it's still a novelty for me, even now after watching it a few times since then. You see, beforehand, even just the phrase "dirty dancing" might have made me blush, never mind the actual dancing itself. But from the first moment that I watched it, I fell in love with it, as have so many women before me. 

The idea that an innocent young lamb of a girl could fall so deeply in love with a troubled bad-boy, and with her wonder-filled, soulful eyes and unscathed ideals, pull him out of the pit of nothingness that has become his life. 
And likewise, the idea of this dangerously sexy man becoming obsessed with a naive, timid girl, to the point where he can do nothing but leave all his foolishness behind in order to dote on her, protect her, and teach her to dance. And to "let go".


You see, every girl wants to be Baby. And the thing that makes me love this movie so much is that I have always felt a lot like Baby did. As a teenager, I was always such a good girl. So well behaved, so well-meaning. So afraid of letting people down. I was geeky, nerdy, incredibly clumsy, awkward, hopeless at socializing, and I couldn't dance. I was nice, and people liked me. But I wasn't ever popular, and that's made me feel... forgettable. 


And that's what I've come to love so much about Baby, is that she changes from the girl that I've always felt like, into all the things a girl wants to be...


Brave.
The apple of someone's eye.
Someone worth fighting for.
Bold.
Sexy.
Self-assured.
Willing to stick up for others even at her own cost.
Loved intensely.
Desired. 
Someone who can dance without abandon.




Yes, every girl wants to be Baby. And it's got nothing to do with dancing with a ripped 1980's Patrick Swayze, although that wouldn't hurt. 


Just sayin. 


So anyways, I'm feeling all fuzzy inside, and thought I'd share two of my favourite scenes:


Of course the one is the legendary "Last Dance" of the movie, which is fun and heart-warming... and what a timeless song!


But even more so, I'm just crazy about the "Lover Boy" scene, which is simply adorable to watch. Over and over. And over. 


Anyways, wouldn't it be nice if we all had someone to be our Johnny or our Baby, someone who helps brings out the best in us? Someone who opens your eyes to all that you have to offer this world... and them. And that at the end of each day you could say... or sing...


I've had the time of my life...

Music to Get Your Gloves On...

I decided to do a little bit of a musical experiment this weekend - I hope you are as giddy with excitement as I am...

As I previously blogged last year, dance music (unaffectionately nicknamed doef-doef music) is admittedly one of the best music styles for any kind of exercise, including kickboxing. I decided to find out, by absolute trial and error, what other music is good for boxing. So I pre-selected a variety of music, and loaded it onto my iPod. I clicked on "shuffle" and off I went to the garage, where my punching bag hung waiting. My results were interesting, to say the least. Here are some observations:


Linkin Park
No good for boxing at all. I found this surprising, as I would have thought that their aggression would have contributed to the sport quite well. Not so - in fact, I felt quite drained boxing to Linkin Park. Not recommended, I'm afraid. Which is sad. But true.


My Chemical Romance
Now don't accuse me of being biased, but my findings suggest that My Chemical Romance is exceptionally suitable for boxing. The combination of near-psychopathic energy, aggression and most importantly, emotion, is what does it for me. I felt like I could tear a hole in the punching bag with my bare hands, and land in a sobbing heap on the floor. A bit over-the-top and dramatic, but effective nonetheless.


Sting
No surprises here, I would not suggest using Sting as motivational music for a boxing session. I felt more inspired to hang up my boxing gloves and take up yoga and meditation instead. Zero on the boxing-music chart.


Elvis Presley
Yes, I possess Elvis Presley music. (And proudly, I might add.) You won't believe this, but Elvis is truly great boxing music. I expect that the warbling croons of the likes of "Blue Moon" and "Love me Tender" instantly transformed me from a sweaty novice panting doggedly in my dirty garage, into Cinderella-Man... Has-been Champion pro, fighting for love... for survival.... for dignity... Age-old romance really does it, who knew? (I do now) 


Red
Red is a hardcore Christian band, and I honestly wasn't sure how I'd manage with them, but their extraordinary intertwining of bleeding guitars, screaming vocals and soaring orchestra (yes, orchestra) made me feel like a warrior, battling a giant red demon in the middle of a raging apocalypse. Red filled me with a passionate desire to overcome the punching bag, and overcome it I did. With goosebumps from head to toe. 


The Rasmus
Now this is a 'dark band' and, in my opinion, quite effective with a punching bag, but... it seems to work only if fueled by some kind of heartache in addition to it. It's what we call an emo band, and emo without pain is... well, just a lame fashion statement really. So use The Rasmus wisely with the punching bag, because they don't pull the emotion off quite as well as My Chemical Romance.


Good Charlotte
Again, an astonishing result - I expected the lovable punk band to provide me with bounds of joyful energy to work out, but instead I just found myself getting annoyed. But like, really annoyed. In fact, I had to stop boxing on a few occasions to take my gloves off, and change the track whenever Good Charlotte or Blink 182 came on. Gosh could this be the first sign that I'm getting old? .....Naaaaah, couldn't be.


Sum 41
This band did nothing for me. Neither did 30 Seconds to Mars or Hoobastank. It was all merely very good background music, but that's all it was. So, standard-issue alternative music seems to be pretty neutral ground. Better than Sting, at least. 


Kongos
Now this is excellent boxing music. Kongos is just a refreshing rock bad, with driving rhythm, brilliant durmming (as so well demonstrated on their hit track "I'm Only Joking") and good old-fashioned great vocals. Even their more 'toned down' tracks, like "Escape", make for pleasant exercise and boxing music. Great for light sparring and warming up.


Rihanna
The problem I experienced with the likes of Rihanna, Shakira and Beyonce is that I felt the urge to strip my gloves off, and dance with my punching bag, instead of hit it. So, while I can't accurately say that this is not energizing music, it's not the kind of energy I'm looking for. Well, except for one song - Breaking Dishes - which I've mentioned once before HERE."Breaking Dishes" I could box to... but I'd probably break something. 


Guns N' Roses
Now it's not easy to mention Guns N Roses in this forum because my iPod only played one of their songs, "Sweet Child of Mine". Big no-no with the punching bag, it seems. I'm not even sure how this happens, but in losing my focus to this track, the punching bag actually managed to punch me back, in my solar plexus, and left me somewhat winded for a minute or two. So classic rock, the likes of Guns n Roses and  Metallica , not conducive to safe boxing, and not recommended.

To summarize, I'd have to say that ny top three boxing bands are....

My Chemical Romance 

Red

Kongos

And if all else fails, Fellow Inhabitants of this Planet, there's always that blasted dance music.

Everybody *dance* now! Part 2

I had the pleasure of going out on Friday night with some colleagues. We went to a place called Molly Malone's in Fourways, which is your typical Irish pub. They had a DJ there that sent a notebook around and had people write their favourite songs - now that's my kind of DJ, there were some hot tracks played that night, both old and new. 


Anyways, after a few hours of lazing in the setting sun, letting our core temperatures drop from a hot day, we decided that we had the itch to go dancing. *Ntsi-ntsi-ntsi-ntsi* (sound of dance music) 


Now let me tell you a little something about myself: I am a professional nerd. And as a long-standing nerd, I haven't done the whole clubbing thing. Maybe once. Ever. As a young adult, I did not see the fun in staying out late in a crowded room, making an idiot of myself, and spending the next two days recovering. I am not a friendly person without sleep. And so while my generation was out living it up, I was curled up in bed trying to keep my eyes open long enough to reach the end of a chapter in a murder mystery. 


But now I've hit 27 and it's as though something in my psyche has gone "What the... Wait a minute.... Wait, wait, did I miss something....???" I actually feel like dancing. That's not to say I'm a very good dancer - I actually suck on a whole new level - but it's fun, right?


So back to Friday night, we went to a nearby place called Billy the Bums... you may know it. It's hard to play it cool in a place where so many new exciting things cross your path. Like, for instance, the bar-tender who juggles with bottles and flicks them and throws them up then spins them behind his back then, oh my, he's doing it with two at once and.... I'm like a kitten chasing the red light of a laser-pen, I just can't play it cool. Ok, deep breath, so what, he's chucking a bottle around. So what? Puh-lease. Impress me if you can. 


We stood around for an hour, which brings me to my next problem with clubbing... Why can't you start dancing whenever you want? Why must you wait until 11PM? Who decided that it's only nerds who dance before 11PM?? Whoever they are, they stink. They really, really do stink.


So yes, we stood around for a hour, during which time, my gracious companions warned me about Billy the Bums. It's a rough crowd, apparently. Lots of people picking people up, lots of guys getting too close to girls they don't know (I think 'grinding' was the word used, gross) and lots of girls getting in your space... kind-of like a battle for territory. So, considering myself duly warned, we eventually hit the dance floor, which was populated by people who did not look like nerds. 


First song, cool, no issues. Second song, short fat old man bops his way across dance floor. Short fat old man gives nerdy-girl (me) cheesy grin. *shudder* Short fat old man utters the line that has failed so many of his kind before him: "So can I buy you a drink?" 
Why!? Why do you do it, short fat old man??? You could be at home, reading the paper, ageing with grace. People would think you're adorable. Why??????
Short fat old man bops away, and goes to play it cool by the juggling bar-tender. 


Which brings me to my next irritation... why must it always be a sad old man picking me up? It's not my first pick-up, and it's always some old fool who's disillusioned with life, grasping on desperately to his youth. Why can't it be a virile young stallion of a man with straight teeth and perfect hair? Look, I'm utterly happily married, so the answer would always be a big fat no-thank-you, but for once, it would be far more flattering to be picked up by Robert Pattinson or someone equally acceptable-looking. 


*SIGH*


I danced a little longer, but soon realized that perhaps Billy the Bums is not for me, and excused myself shortly after 11PM. 


Man, I'm a nerd. 

Everybody *dance* now!

 Yesterday I did something that I have never done before: I bought (paid good money for) a dance-music CD. Actually, a compilation of three discs, to be precise - Kevin Grenfell's Club Anthems 2011, vol. 2. For those of you who know my musical preferences, you will understand the significance of this occurrence. But I could't deny myself any longer. 


I have been listening to a lot of radio lately, giving my poor, overworked iPod a bit of a break, and the radio has been playing a great deal of house and dance music. Now, usually, when this type of music abuses my radio, I roll my eyes, sigh in exasperation, and utter some derogatory word or two about 'this damn doef-doef-music'. However, I have discovered in my radio-listening weeks that there is a reason that this music is called "dance". Despite my resistance to liking the stuff, I can not help myself - when it is playing, I simply must move. Something about it makes me jiggle and jive and bop and wriggle... All in the embarrassing confines of my car. I just want to dance! 


With this in mind, I realized that it would be the perfect music to play while boxing. And so that is my excuse. I refuse to admit that I have come to like house music, but will concede to it's usefulness in an exercising environment. 

And so it was while working out this morning, and listening to my cheesy dance CD, that I decided that I have a lot to say about boxing. A LOT. Enough to blog about, for sure. So, if anyone is out there, and if anyone is interested, my next blog will be about boxing and kickboxing... I'm quite sure I've wasted enough of your Sunday talking about dance music *sigh of exasperation, eye-roll*, and so I shall address the matter another time. (I do have a LOT to say)


Get your boxing gloves ready and your doef-doef on, Fellow Inhabitants of this Planet, it's nearly Monday!